needed to know.
More than ever, it bothered me tonight that my parents had never said much about gay people when I was growing up. The church our family went to was divided about it, and the annual Pride event in town was always a big controversy, but Mom and Dad never commented one way or the other.
When I said I didn’t know how they would take this, I really, really didn’t know.
My headlights illuminated the familiar green gate at the end of the driveway, and I gripped the wheel tighter. Breathing slowly and evenly, pretending my heart wasn’t pounding and my head wasn’t spinning, I took the turn and started toward the house where I’d grown up.
Troy and I had offered to buy our parents a place anywhere they wanted, including Maui (Mom’s favorite place in the world), but they wanted to stay here, so he and I had gone in halves and paid off the house and property. We’d also bought them a vacation home on Maui as a fortieth anniversary gift, and we made sure they took a trip there at least once a year. Our parents had supported us while we’d skated toward our professional hockey dreams, and we’d both vowed time and again to make it up to them every chance we had. Neither of us would be who we were—men or hockey players—if not for our loving, supportive, incredible parents.
Which was exactly why I was terrified to do this. There was a part of me that legitimately thought it would be better to stay in the closet so I never found out what it was like to have my parents turn their backs on me. But I already hurt like hell over Devin, so I might as well rip off this bandage and get it over with too. Grieve it all at once.
As I pulled up beside Dad’s truck in front of the garage, my mind went back to the same question that had been eating at me since long before I’d even met Devin:
Would it be worse to go through life wondering if I was someone my parents would have hated? Or knowing for sure that I was?
Guess I was about to find out.
I shut off the engine and got out of the car. By the time I was halfway to the front porch, the door was open and both of my parents were there to greet me with hugs. Then Mom shooed me inside since it was cold out, and she herded Dad and me down the familiar hall to the familiar kitchen.
Every time I came home, I was secretly glad my parents had stayed here. If they’d ever sold the place, I probably would have bought it myself. This had always been home for me, and the thought of it being gone had always hurt.
I glanced at my parents, and my stomach knotted.
What do I do if this isn’t home anymore?
In the kitchen, unaware of me turning myself inside out, Mom said, “We’re sorry we couldn’t make it to tonight’s game.” She beamed. “You boys sold out the whole arena!”
I laughed, hoping my nerves didn’t show through. “You know, you can always let me know if you want to make a game. I can usually get someone to cough up some tickets.”
“I’d rather let you pull those strings during the playoffs,” she said with a grin. “Those games are fun!”
“Okay, okay. If we make the playoffs, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good. Now are you hungry? Thirsty?” She gestured over her shoulder. “I just made some coffee. And you’re feeling better after the other night, aren’t you? They let you play, so I assume…”
I smiled. “I’m fine. Totally back to normal. And sure, coffee sounds great. Thanks.” The last thing in the world I needed right now was coffee, but my mom wasn’t happy unless she could fuss over someone, and I didn’t dare eat anything. Coffee would have to do.
While she poured cups for all three of us, Dad and I sat at the kitchen table. She joined us a moment later, and we drank in silence for a moment.
As we did, I was sure my nerves were going to turn me inside out if I kept putting this off. Should I just make small talk for a bit? Catch up with them before I drop the bomb? Or get it over with already?
Just do it. It won’t be any better just because you were a coward for five more minutes.
“Listen,